


All I do to dream of us (And the nightmares I have of you)

by SecondaryGhost



Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - J. Sheridan Le Fanu
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, F/F, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-11-18 05:09:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11284344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondaryGhost/pseuds/SecondaryGhost
Summary: The horrors we expriecence at our most vaulurable states of mind are caused by monsters of creation who try to influence our choices. From a young age, Laura has found herself faced with crippiling nightmares and she soon finds her salvation. Carmilla works as an agent for a nightmare organistation and is tasked with providing such dreams to Laura. But this time is different, Laura is different.





	1. But I scream too loud (When I speak my mind)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my new fic. This is a mere taste of a possible story, I would like to see how it is received first. Please comment and leave kudos. Ghost out.

There is a world beyond our own.  It is a kingdom of silver and gold surrounded by soft clouds made from the imagination of children. It floats, separated from the world below it, to serve as a constant reminder to its own inhabitants. It reminds them all of the innovative young minds at work on the world below theirs and how easily they can be bent.

Carmilla sits in a lobby with many other “workers” in a similar field to hers. A lady with thick rimmed glasses sits behind a pristine desk, staring at a monitor as she types loudly. Waiting in a white walled room with multiple red couches is not how Carmilla planned to spend her evening. She taps her boots against the white marble floor and flips through a magazine.

 **“Know your mark: A guide for nightmares.”** the heading of an article reads. Carmilla rolls her eyes but continues reading.

_As a nightmare, it is your responsibility to push your mark’s fears to the limit. Yet, sometimes it can be difficult because each of your marks are individuals who fear different things. Get to know your mark because-_

“Carmilla Karnstein. The Director will see you now.”

Sighing to herself, Carmilla rises from the couch. She throws the woman behind the desk a wink and strides down the corridor to a door with a golden plaque titled: “The Director”

She pushes the door open without bothering to knock. The door opens up to a large office overlooking the clouds. They float gently outside the massive windows like peach and strawberry tuffs of cotton. Carmilla’s view of the clouds is blocked by a large figure looking out of the window, with one arm leaning against the glass and the other in the pocket of his suit.

The Director turns to face Carmilla and she feels the ice crawl down her spine. Horns twist upward from the base of his skull and curl close to his forehead, similar to that of a ram. His neatly combed salted hair hides the origin of the horns but Carmilla assumes they grow from his skull.

His white suit, obviously tailored, lightens the presence of the dark horns coming out his skull. Had they not protruded from his skull, he could have been the stuff dreams revolved around. Silver eyes, a strong jaw and a neatly trimmed beard made the Director heavenly.

_If that’s what you’re interested in._

“Carmilla, how nice of you to join me.” He glides effortlessly across the polished marble floor. He gestures to an empty office chair and Carmilla is compelled to sit.

He sits across from her and his light eyes bore into her own. His mouth pulls into a characteristic charming smile and for a brief second, Carmilla feels at ease.

“I hear you’ve been taking a break. Which, I will admit, was quite a disappointment to the Board, seeing as though you are our best nightmare,” His grin turns malicious and his eyes flash crimson, “We need you back, Carmilla. We are even prepared to forgive the incident with the young girl.”

Carmilla inwardly cringes at the mention. A slip up on her part was the reason for half a department shutting down and the Board will not let her forget it.

“What if I don’t want to go back into the business of crushing little children’s dreams?”

The Director leans forward over the desk. Black veins begin to crawl over his face in some kind of dark webbing and his pupils blow so wide that they consume the whole of his eyes. His insisters enlarge as his smile grows along with them.

“You think you have a choice?” Many voices accompany his own as he speaks. He no longer sits on the chair across from Carmilla but rather crouches on it. His back arches to allow for the growth of the black mass Carmilla thinks is his wings. The horns that were once so neatly curled against his scalp is now unfurled and stretched for the heavens.

_It seems the Board has decided to join them._

“You will do this, pet.” The mass that was the Director now crawls over the desk and moves closer to Carmilla. Its massive claws drag across the mahogany desk and they dig into its surface. The creature whines softly.

“Please…” The Director’s voice now stands alone, “Just do it and we will free you.”

“Wait, are you saying that I do this last one and I am finally free?” Carmilla’s voice shakes. The creature nods, shuffles back and whines again.

“Yes.”

“Then you have a deal.”

Carmilla blinks and as soon as her eyes flutter open, The Director sits back in the chair across from hers in a clean suit and tie. He runs a hand through the front of his hair and releases a deep sigh.

“Between you and me, I hate when they do that.” He laughs and Carmilla chuckles nervously.

“Well they are the Board of Nightmares.”

He laughs, “Yes. I wonder if the Director of Dreams has a better experience.”

“Probably. I bet their Board turns him into a unicorn”

They both laugh at that.

 

* * *

 

“Carmilla Karnstein. Here is your reference portfolio and your client documentation. There is also a letter from the Board attached with a small gift. I recommend you read the letter beforehand. Please return both before you enter the dream sequence. Have a nice day and happy hunting.”

Carmilla thanks the women. The woman nods once and turns swiftly on her heel. She walks away with a few clicks of her stilettoes on the polished floor before she disappears from sight down a seemingly never-ending corridor.

A light blinks above Carmilla. The blinding white light is her only source of illumination, possibly due to budget cuts in the nightmare department. In all honesty, everyone prefers dreams over nightmares and all the people in this small section of the building know that.

The cream file in Carmilla’s hands is slightly thicker than any other file she has been handed before. A few loose papers hang out the side and Carmilla slips them in gently. The name “Laura Hollis” is written out in bold gold print on the front. Obviously this poor soul has had her fair share of nightmares, clearly shown by the lack of white brief papers and the abundance of black ones in her file.

Carmilla puts the file to one side and finds the brown envelope from the Board. She opens it and pulls the letter out. The handwriting is beautiful: elegant curls and slanted calligraphy. Carmilla finds herself almost laughing when she reads the letter.

**_Dear Carmilla Karnstein (Ref: 0007854)_ **

**_We are hereby pleased to inform you that your new client is a level 10. The human, one by the name of Laura Eileen Hollis, is a high stakes mark. Her client portfolio (re: attached) will give you a detailed brief of the young girl. As a high stakes mark, we hereby give you these rules to follow as her nightmare:_ **

  * **_You may not give her any reason to believe that you are responsible for her nightmares._**
  * **_Her nightmares must be of level 8 issue ONLY. Any nightmare above level 8 will result in immediate extraction._**
  * **_You must follow your human identity brief to the fullest extent. Should you derail from the human identity brief, it will result in immediate extraction._**
  * **_You will be given a studio apartment close to the location of the mark. No sexual activity may occur for the duration of your stay or it will result in immediate extraction._**
  * **_You are given 3 weeks to complete your brief. Failure to do so will result in immediate extraction._**



**_Should you feel you will not be able to complete the brief, we will send someone in your place._ **

**_Yours in Night-hood  
The Board _ **

Carmilla slips the letter back into the envelope and pushes it aside. She grabs the client portfolio and opens up to the first page. The face of a smiling 20-something year old girl looks Carmilla straight in the eyes.

She almost catches herself feeling sorry for the poor girl, but quickly pushes the feeling from her mind. Nightmares are only called to do one thing; to force people from making decisions that people in HQ do not want to happen. Choices that could change the world in ways they do not approve of. Some people call it destiny, Carmilla calls it ground control.

She turns her attention to the brief. A long written essay of Laura’s past experiences with this line of work. Nothing too serious it seems, some demons here and deaths of loved ones there but nothing that could scar the poor girl for life. Well maybe aside from the dream of falling and waking up as she hits the ground.

But that’s the classic stuff right there.

Carmilla has had her fair share of marks. Very few high stakes marks, she will admit, but marks none the less. Three hundred and twenty-eight years of marks. Carmilla has spent the entirety of her life in this game and now that she has a chance of freedom, she feels afraid.

Fear is not something Carmilla usually feels. She is the cause of other peoples fear and, occasionally, she enjoys giving them that feeling. But feeling it for herself is a whole different game that Carmilla isn’t comfortable with playing. Should she mess up this job, she will lose her chance of freedom forever.

The light flickers above her again. It draws her thoughts to the package in her hands. The lightness of such a bulky package is the worrisome clue as to what it might be. She unwraps the package by pulling the string from it and tearing the brown covering off. This reveals a heavily bubble wrapped hourglass. Its sand, a creamy colour of fine sand, seems to defy gravity as it swirls down rather than cascading to the bottom.

A display of their power, Carmilla thinks.

She rests the hourglass next to the brief and picks up her human identity index from the table. Her new name is written in slanted calligraphy above her personality description and Carmilla finds it strange that they chose to keep her real name.

Carmilla Karnstein. Who has a last name like Karnstein? Apparently this faux human does, how quaint of the Board and their creativity.

The description reads that Carmilla Karnstein keeps to herself mostly and avoids contact with the outside world. She is a web designer part time but lives off of her inheritance from a wealthy relative who had passed away last spring. Apparently her favourite colour is black and she believes that cats are better than dogs. All of which the real Carmilla can agree too.

It seems they kept her personality in place for this mark. The Board will tend to do this if the mark will avoid contact with a person of that nature. Carmilla cannot say she’s surprised after reading through the nightmares this poor girl has had.

Carmilla shoves the personality index back into the envelope and leaves it on the table. She takes both Laura’s file and her new hourglass before she snaps her fingers. The sound echoes for a moment before the sound of a pop takes Carmilla to Earth with little effort.

* * *

 

The sun has begun to set when Carmilla finds the apartment building that her mark stays in and her soon to be home while she completes her task. When she finds her apartment among the numerous doors and disgusting peeling wall paper, she opens the door to find a fully decorated apartment.

The Board has out done themselves this time because everything is suited to Carmilla’s personality. The natural hues show a lack of natural colour and Carmilla finds herself loving her new home even more. There is a bookshelf against the wall to her right and she spots an open plan kitchen deeper into the space. From her visits to this world, Carmilla can tell that this is a modern styled apartment. Very open and spacious with minimalistic decorations.

Carmilla hears a soft meow and looks to the floor underfoot. On the wooden floor lounges a black cat, a minion for the Board to use in order to track her progress. Carmilla rolls her eyes and steps over the creature, she thanks the heavens they gave her a cat over a few fish. Less hassle that way.

Carmilla places her hourglass on the glass coffee table before she hears a knock on her open girl. She turns to find her mark standing there in her nightwear that consists of a pair of grey pants Carmilla swears humans use for working out and a shirt that is far too big for her small frame with the words “Got Milk” printed above a picture of a cartoon cow.

“Can I help you?” Carmilla asks. She hears the small woman’s breathing hitch.

“Um no,” Carmilla tries not to smile at the poor girls antics as she begins waving her hands around, “I just wanted to say hello to my new neighbour so, uh, here I am, saying hello to you, my new neighbour. I’m Laura.”

The human continues to stand awkwardly in the doorway as she waits for Carmilla’s answer. The cat, Carmilla has decided to call Luna, is now rubbing herself on the girl’s legs in hopes of getting attention.

“Carmilla, charmed. I’ve got quite a bit of unpacking to do, creampuff, so I’m going to have to stop this little _thing_ that you’re doing right now.” Carmilla glides to Laura, she swears she hears the poor girl gulp, and shuts the door in her face.

She turns on her heel to walk away but a knock on the door stops her. She opens it to find Laura, still smiling, holding a rather content Luna in her arms.

“You forgot your cat.”

Carmilla hisses out a thanks, grabs Luna and slams the door in Laura’s face for a second time that day.


	2. You feel too little (And I feel too much)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first nightmare and sugar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome. After such a great response, and some convincing, I wrote the second chapter with haste. 
> 
> For those who are waiting for Wolven Fate, there was a minor hiccup but will be up as soon as humanly possible.

The nightmare begins like every other nightmare Laura has had since she can remember. She sits alone in an unknown place with the wind blowing through her hair and causing it to fly into her face, leaving her momentarily defenceless. Her vision is obscured by the golden strands for the briefest of moments before the scenery swirls and changes in a kaleidoscope of colours.

  
Now Laura sits in a room with barely any light, sourced from a single window. On a table, laid out rather lavishly as if more were to accompany her, is a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a pitcher of milk along with an empty glass. The milk is warm, Laura can see the steam rise from the crystal pitcher and the smell of freshly baked cookies fill the air with a sweetened warmth.

  
Laura doesn’t recognise the room. The walls are a plain terracotta colour, the window is bare and the wooden table is polished expertly enough for Laura to see her reflection. She is pleased to find that her reflection is unchanged.

  
Laura hums contently as she reaches to grab a cookie from the table. The smell has become stronger now as she lifts the perfectly shaped cookie from the pile, her mouth begins to water as she pulls it closer to her mouth.

  
The cookie is perfect as she breaks off a chunk to chew but as the well consistent cookie hits her tongue, all Laura tastes is dirt. She halts in her chewing and holds it in her mouth to let it mellow on the surface. After a while, she plays it off as her imagination and continues to chew.

  
The taste remains as something of a likeness to dirt that Laura is forced to spit the content onto the table. She, rather unladylike, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and inspects it to find the crumbs of a golden brown cookie mixed with her saliva on its surface. Laura looks to the chunks on the table only to find bits of cookie.

  
Laura frowns to herself. The earthy taste of dirt remains in her mouth, yet the cookie seems perfectly fine and unchanged. Sighing, she reaches for the pitcher of milk and pours herself a glass. The steaming liquid falls into the polished crystal glass in such a way that it reminds Laura of the way her Uncle Oscar would pour his whiskey. The glass even looks like those he had kept on a silver tray in his large office.

  
Unsurprisingly, the glass is warm to the touch when Laura lifts it off the table. Surely the warm milk would have transferred some heat in the few moments that she had left between pouring the milk and raising the glass to her lips.

  
When she allows the liquid to enter her mouth, Laura finds it to be ice cold and tasting of dirty water. The scent of warm vanilla milk infiltrates her nose and sends her brain for a ride as the smell does not match the taste that assaults her delicate taste buds.

  
Laura angrily slams the glass onto the table and rises from the chair.

  
“Alright, you’ve had your fun! What do you want from me?”

  
Her question is met with deafening silence. Her heavy breathing fills the air as she rushes to the sole window in the room. As she looks out, she notices the trees do not move and the birds remain rigid as they sit on the branches. Laura desperately grips around its wooden frame for a latch but her hands aimlessly grasp at smooth wood.

  
Next, she tries banging her fists on the glass panels of the window but they refuse to budge under the exerted force. The glass feels roughened as if there are small stones beaded beneath the surface. As Laura bangs her fist onto the glass, she begins to notice the wear-and-tear on her hands. Small blood specks seep to the surface of her skin as it is ripped off her hand. The blood begins to smear on the clear glass window similar to that of a horror movie special effect. Even Stephen King would laugh at the simplicity of this cliché scene and Laura finds herself to cease all movement at all. How did she find herself in a classic movie situation? She has no memory of ever leaving her apartment, let alone entering this room.

  
It’s only a dream, her subconscious whispers softly.

  
As if afraid of her discovery, the dream begins to morph and glitch. A slight time-lapse reveals Laura to be stuck from the waist down in the floor. She tries to desperately claw out but the floor pulls her in with every amount of effort she uses to escape. Eventually all she sees before her is darkness as her heart hammers away in the pit of her ear.

* * *

 

  
Carmilla is not ashamed to admit that the nightmare could have gone better. She should have been prepared for Laura to figure out her trick much sooner than most but agent turned a blind eye to the fact that the girl has been suffering from nightmares since she was a small child.

  
For a level one nightmare, Carmilla could have kicked it up a notch or two. Children have had worse nightmares than the one she had prepared for Laura but the nightmare-agent feels a slight pang in her chest at the thought of hurting Laura.

  
The warm July air must be melting the icy cold tendrils that have formed around Carmilla’s heart.

  
Rising from her bed, Carmilla checks the time on her digital alarm clock. The red numbers glare that it is three in the morning on a Monday. Carmilla pulls her silk gown from her wardrobe and heads to the kitchen to make a warm batch of hot chocolate.

  
Despite the weather being warmer than most, Carmilla prefers to only drink hot chocolate after creating a nightmare. Chocolate is an excellent source of energy for nightmare-agents, besides sleeping, and Carmilla refuses to eat the stuff unless it is directly from Belgium.

  
Now on her balcony, Carmilla can see the city as it sleeps. At this hour she was sure to see nothing of interest lurking beyond the comfort of her home but she is pleasantly surprised to find that the city is still buzzing with life after a long day. A car honks its horn a few blocks down and a man whistles as he walks home from a night at a club.

  
Carmilla is admiring the sight when she hears a door open and close in the apartment next to her own. Laura steps out onto her balcony and leans over its rails to take in a deep breath. She inhales the thick city air and car exhaust fumes before the sound of Carmilla’s voice almost throws her over the edge.

  
“Tough night?”

  
The small girl practically jumps half way out of her skin before her soul decides to return to her body.

  
“Carmilla, holy Hufflepuff, you scared me!” Laura dramatically throws her hand over her chest to still her rapidly beating heart. Carmilla rolls her eyes.

  
As predictable as humans like Laura can be, Carmilla finds herself surprised. The young woman seems unaffected by her recent nightmare. Even the simplest of level-one-issued-nightmares ruffle the feathers of even the strongest Earth has to offer, yet, Laura seems perfectly fine.

  
Either she can handle nightmares pretty well or Carmilla has grown soft from being out of the game for so long.

  
“Carmilla?”

  
“Huh?” Carmilla is reminded of the insufferable human’s presence once again and is pulled from her musings.

  
“I asked why you’re up so late?”

  
“Working,” Carmilla half lies, “I just needed some fresh air.”

  
Laura hums as she accepts the answer. The two stand in the warm air in complete silence other than the rumbling cars as they drive through the streets below.

  
“Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?” Laura waits patiently for Carmilla to recall her geography of the Earth. Carmilla’s character brief failed to give her a place of birth, which puzzles the nightmare-agent as the Board tends to thoroughly set foundations for a high stakes mark such as Laura.

  
What place is plausible but also explains my accent and appearance?

  
“I’m actually from here. I moved away to study and decided to come back, for family related matters.”

  
_There, that shouldn’t raise too many red flags._

  
“Oh, really? Must have been nice, you know, traveling to a new country. Where did you go?”

  
“Africa.” Carmilla regrets the word as soon as it leaves her mouth.

  
_Did I seriously just name a continent as the country I visited? Wait, does it still exist?_

  
Laura’s eyebrows raise slightly as her eyes widen, “Like all of it?”

  
“Yes.” Carmilla looks to her open balcony door and wishes to just vanish to the safety within.

  
“What is it you do exactly?”

  
“Wait a minute, is this an interrogation?” Carmilla tries desperately to move the conversation off from the topic of her history.

  
“No! I mean, my father is a small town cop so I guess I might be interrogating you. Sorry for that, I’m genuinely curious, that’s all.” Laura sheepishly smiles and the blush that forms on her face makes Carmilla feel slightly guilty.

  
Silence falls upon them again as they both watch the city come alive in the early hours of the morning. Somewhere below them, Carmilla can hear two people quarrelling over the smallest thing. Not before long, the loud voices no longer travel up the buildings face to where Carmilla and Laura both stand in a comfortable silence.

  
Only when Laura wishes Carmilla a good morning and leaves does the nightmare-agent realise how difficult of a task it will be to make this young woman hate her very existence.

* * *

 

  
The sound of someone beating her front door against its fragile hinges wakes Carmilla from her dreamless sleep. The sun has already risen high enough to break through her curtains, so Carmilla concludes the time to be around somewhere in the early afternoon.

  
The banging refuses to cease. Even after rolling onto her stomach and throwing her pillow over her head to drown out the noise, the persistence of whoever is behind that door wins the battle.

  
“Yeah, hold on I’ll be right there.” After every attempt to make herself look more decent, Carmilla opens the door. For such a small human Laura holds a seemingly hidden anger that she chose to unleash on Carmilla’s front door.

  
“What did my poor door ever do to you, cupcake?”

  
“Nothing,” Laura cannot seem to keep her smile from appearing on her face, “I just wanted to know if I could borrow some sugar. I haven’t had time to run to the store yet and my hot cocoa is calling.”

  
Carmilla fights every urge to slam the door in Laura’s annoyingly attractive face. This exact moment remind her of every near death experience she has ever had, only now she wishes they actually succeeded in killing her rather than having to face this torture.

  
“I don’t have any, sorry.”

  
As if Carmilla shot an innocent, adorable puppy and then desecrated its corpse, Laura’s face falls.

  
“But I guess I could get some for you, I was headed to the store anyway.” Carmilla wants to shoot herself in the foot. For someone who lies for a living she sure is digging her grave deep

.  
“Great! I’ll join you. Let me just gather my things and then we can go.” Laura vanishes from Carmilla’s doorway and disappears into the apartment next-door. Sighing, Carmilla closes her door and rests her head on it.

  
The thought of bashing her skull in briefly enters her mind as a perfectly responsible way to handle this situation.

* * *

 

Supermarkets like this one never existed the last time Carmilla was on Earth. There had been packaged goods on shelves in small stores but not fresh produce stored on a shelf that sprays itself, and any fool who stands to close, with a mist of water to keep its goods from spoiling. From the moment Carmilla stepped into this warehouse of food and other goods, she had to keep herself from behaving like a small child.

  
This place is revolutionary, and so clean.

  
They took Laura’s small car, yet another upgrade of inventions since the last time Carmilla had visited Earth, and drove to the closest store. Now they stand browsing the produce aisle looking for anything that sparks the small human’s interests.

  
The array of colours and sensations is making Carmilla slightly lightheaded. The air is warm around the store but as soon as they approached this section, the temperature dropped like Carmilla’s jaw when she walked into this building.

  
“Do you need anything from here?” Laura asks as she places a packet of fresh lettuce into her cart. Carmilla has no need to eat so she shakes her head. Her cupboards are mostly empty, besides the hot chocolate and actual slabs of chocolate.

  
“What was it you needed to get? You said you were heading to the store anyway.” The small human begins with her interrogation but, unlike earlier this morning, Carmilla is fully prepared.

  
“Sugar and cat food, for Luna.” Carmilla doubts Luna eats cat food like a normal, non-Board created cat. She suspects the feline prefers the souls of innocent human beings who wander too far into the darkness of night.

  
“She’s a cute cat. Did you bring her over from Africa?” Laura grabs a packet of dry pasta off of a shelf, which she adds to the cart of piling goods.

  
“No, she was a gift.” Carmilla finds herself frowning at the truth. Laura catches her frown but says nothing about it as the move from aisle to aisle to find the things on Laura’s list.

Eventually they get to the pet food and Carmilla picks up a bag of dried pellets from the bunch. A small catnip-stuffed fabric mouse catches her eye so she picks that up as well.

  
Their last stop is the sugar. When Carmilla picks up two bags of the sugar Laura remarks, “Preparing for your hibernation or something?” She laughs and Carmilla smiles inwardly at the sound.

  
“Not quite. I said I was going to get you sugar, so that’s what I’m doing.”

  
“That’s awfully sweet of you.”

  
“Was that an intentional pun?”

  
“Yes. Yes it was.”

* * *

 

If someone had told Carmilla when she was alive that she would get to experience the gift that is the 21st century, she would have laughed in their face. She was there for the invention of ice cream and she witnessed the British take over New Amsterdam and rename it New York, but nothing compares to everything that has occurred in the last three centuries.

  
Carmilla was only active as a nightmare agent for the both the 18th and 19th century. She ignored the latest inventions and missed the chances to explore the word she was sent to because her marks only ever required one single nightmare. After the nightmare she would be whisked away back to HQ.

  
They kept their agents informed about the latest technology and offered basic training on how to operate many of these new developments. Yet, they never seemed to care to tell the agents about the things that have become of the world they once knew. There was no information on supermarkets, Starbucks, fast food or pictures that you take of just your face.

  
When the two girls returned to their building, Carmilla handed Laura her sugar and left. No goodbye was whispered between them as Carmilla slammed the door behind her.

  
Now Carmilla sits curled up like a fragile ball on her floor, gripping at her chest as it closes around her. The air has suddenly thinned as Carmilla gasps for air. Luna appears at her side and meows softly to get Carmilla’s attention.

  
The cat softly knocks its head against her thigh and rubs against it. Carmilla uses her free hand to rub the soft fur and Luna lets go of a deep rumble from within her chest. It begins to calm Carmilla down. All that runs through Carmilla’s mind is Laura. Her laugh, her smile, the way she scrunches her nose when Carmilla’s remarks are dripping with sarcasm, the way she cares far too much for Carmilla even though they have just met. Laura has embedded herself so far into Carmilla’s thoughts that she is drowning and gasping for air as water crashes into her lungs.

  
Carmilla has only felt this pain once. At the age of twenty one, Carmilla ventured to far from her small town in the hopes of catching small game for her starving family to eat. Her hunt led her to a cliff, under which a large lake resided. It was when she had found a goat, one that had wondered too far from its herd, trying to traverse up the side of the cliff. Carmilla was able to kill it with one arrow to the heart as it reached the top but in its last moments the goat fell back and stumbled over the cliff.

  
She lost her balance when she tried to grab the goat’s body from between two rocks, but when gravity pulled her to the water it brought with it the loose boulder the goat was lodged between. The impact of the water knocked the wind from her lungs that by the time the boulders had her pinned to the lake’s floor, she had no breath in her lungs to allow her to stay under the water for any moments longer.

  
She woke up a moment later in a room with walls so white they looked as if they were further away from where she stood. That’s where she met the Director and that’s where her contract began. Now she has a chance at freedom but all she can think about is; does her freedom outweigh Laura’s life?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Leave kudos and comments. Have a great day, Ghost out.


End file.
